


Saturday Afternoon

by KillTheDirector



Series: Chemical Cocktail [5]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, F/M, Fem!Q, The Chemical Garden Trilogy Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 05:57:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillTheDirector/pseuds/KillTheDirector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was taken on a Saturday afternoon, the cold metal of the van cracking her nails as she screamed and clawed at the walls. There were other girls, but they had been here longer than she had, flinching from the light every time the Gatherers opened the doors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturday Afternoon

She was taken on a Saturday afternoon.

Walking home from the tiny cafe that she worked at, Q jostled her bag of food with one hand while trying to right her large parka with the other. There weren't many people on the streets, the weather calling for snow and the wind cutting through everything like a knife. She dug into her bag of day old pastries, biting down on a half stale bagel with a small sigh. 

It was said that you couldn't hear the Gatherer's van when it came from behind, the tyres specially designed to be as silent as possible. Q shriek, nearly choking on her bagel when rough hands grabbed her by the hair, tugging her backwards and tossing her into the back of a metal van. 

The doors slammed closed, the sound echoing through her head while she heard the worried whimpers of other people shuffle away from her. Q lifted her body from the floor of the compartment, eyes blinking rapidly behind her glasses (something she shouldn't need, but there were always faults to humanity's now perfect genetic makeup); she moved to sit, crossing her legs shakily and lifting a hand to her sore face. "H-hello?" Q flinched at how weak and frightened her voice sounded. The sound of something moving forward caught her attention, and the feeling of a small and cold hand placed on her face caused Q to wince. 

She wanted to cry but swallowed down her bitter tears as she was tugged to the warm group of bodies that would become her companions for a time. 

()()

They were fed by one of the Gatherers sliding a large tray of what could have once passed for food through a slot at the bottom of the doors. From the small sliver of light that erupted whenever the slot opened, Q memorize the faces of her companions; there was a red head that couldn't have been more than thirteen, her face an explosion of freckles and eyes that dulled to a sad dark blue. A girl with sleek raven hair and caramel coloured skin, lips full and red and cut into a straight line and a blonde that would offer her comfort when the rest were asleep. 

"Where are you from?" The blonde would ask (her name was Amanda and Q wished she could see her eyes which were the colour of nebula). Q curled on her side, nose bumping Amanda's neck, breath shaky and hands fumbling under her torn clothes. (The others were faking sleep, understanding that they would take comfort when they needed it). 

"London...I don't even know if where there anymore." Chapped lips pressed against her own as she began to hiccup, attempting to hold back tears. 

()()

Others filled the back of the van, pressing close like sardines; Q didn't bother memorizing their faces there were so many. She stuck close to Amanda, the raven haired girl and the red head, curling close to her familiar companions. 

The van stopped sharply, causing a weak cry to come out of someone's mouth (Q didn't know if it was her own, but she felt Amanda's fingers tighten around her arm, steadying her). There was a pause, the crunch of the Gatherers' boots on gravel as they walked to the back of the van; everyone held their breath, eyes wide in the dark until the doors were wrenched open, light blinding them like acid. 

"Out you go, you little sluts!" The Gatherer barked, grabbing hold of a young girl with dyed pink streaked hair. She cried out, dancing on unstable legs when he threw her; the others followed, containing their terrified whimpers when their feet (now bare, the Gatherers had made sure to take that luxury away least anyone was hiding a knife) touched the cold gravel. 

Q's fingers were wrapped tight around Amanda's, their hands linking them in their fear; the girl towered over her, Q noted, taking in the delicate slope of her nose in profile. The men made them straighten to a line, one noting their clasped hands with a leer. 

They had been brought to an abandoned factory, the building now only a skeleton; there were sleek black limos and vintage cars, bodyguards shadowing behind older men. Q swallowed thickly, hand tightening around Amanda's for a moment as she stared ahead. The older men (First Generation, only a few rich looking younger men of the newer generation peppered their ranks) moved forward, inspecting the line of girls with critical eyes.

A weaselly looking man with watery eyes scanned over Q, knotted hands coming up to pet her crazed girls, moving down her slender neck and to the swell of her small breast. Amanda's hand tightened painfully around her own; Q clenched her jaw as the man kneaded her breast, slimy pink tongue flickering out to wet his lips. 

Amanda wrenched her hand away from Q's, letting out a cry that could pass for a growl, hand forming a fist and punching the man straight across the face. He crumpled like a doll, cry covered with a squawk, outrage in his eyes and mouth forming a square of rage. His body guards descended on Amanda without a second thought, guns pulled out quickly and bullets tearing through her flesh. 

Q screamed, eyes going wide as her companion ("I wish we had met before..." Chapped lips going down her sternum, hovering over her bellybutton, fingertips cold) fell to the ground, blood staining her blonde hair. The man's body guards straightened, holstering their guns and giving Q a parting glance. She still screamed, her grief and rage echoing between the expensive cars and other girls who were too terrified to glance over. 

She clawed at her face, tore at her hair, body bowing and nearly toppling over. She wanted to die, she wanted to kill them, why did they take her; why did they take any of them? Hot tears spilled out of Q's eyes, her scream cracking and fading as she held back sobs. 

Rough hands grabbed her thin arms, pulling her away from the line of girls being inspected like cattle. Q was tugged to a vintage silver-white car, sobs turning into hisses and curses as she attempted to fight the large men off; tears still spilled from her eyes, but her mouth was pulled back into a snarl, hoping to look as disgusting as she felt for a bullet straight through her brain. 

A man regarded her with ice blue eyes, face lined only slightly by age which gave away that he was a First Generation; Q growled, feeling feral and wanting nothing more than to claw out the man's pretty eyes. He looked away from her, gaze flickering up to the Gatherer who still held her tightly. "This the one you want, sir?" The Gatherer grunted, disbelief colouring his words. "Pretty enough, yeah but she's defected. Had glasses, but they're somewhere." 

"I don't care, that's the one I want." Q let out a sharp cry when the feeling of a needle slid into her neck; her eyes began to grow heavy and head lulling forward. The conversation between Gatherer and the man was muffled and low, the man glancing at her before she passed out. 

()()

Q woke in a large bed, mattress soft under her body; she turned onto her side, the dark silk sheets sliding over her bare skin like water. Sitting up quickly, Q groaned and raised a hand to her head, swaying on the spot while specks appeared before hear eyes. Blinking the worst of it away, Q took in the blurry surroundings of the room, noting where the door was and the window. _Is it bared?_ She bit down on the inside of her cheek and slid from the bed, tugging the sheets with her to cover her body.

The window revealed a posh street, devoid of trash or the homeless; Q glanced up at the horizon and released a small sigh of relief at the familiar skyline. Trying the window, she made a noise of frustration when the thing wouldn't budge; her hands slapped uselessly at the glass, squeaking when she slid them down and rested her forehead against the frame. 

No sobs or tears came, just a full body shudder that vibrated her on the spot. 

"I see you're up." Q jumped at the low voice, whirling around and backing to the wall; there was a blurry shape leaning in the doorway, air about him (because she knew it was a _him_ ) relaxed and completely at ease. She squinted to gather more details, mouth turning into an ugly frown when she realized that it was the man. 

"Stay away from me." She hissed, tightening the sheet around her nude body and realizing how vulnerable she was. The man sighed, pushing away from the doorway and walking with easy strides towards her; Q glared and curled her lip, baring her teeth as she tried to back away, pressing against the wall when he stopped a foot away. 

His face came into better focus, jawline sharp and nose a tad crooked; Q studied him quickly, noting the blond hair and his pretty eyes before she curled into herself. "I'm not going to hurt you." He said softly, the blue reminding her of clear water rather than a tundra. She glared, heart beating loudly in her ears while he lifted a hand to run through his hair. "I'm sorry." He said simply, turning on his heel and retreating. 

Q released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding and slid to the ground, pressing the tips of her fingers against her eyes so she wouldn't cry. 

**Author's Note:**

> no smut in this one (though I'm sure I'll slip it into another installment SOME HOW). pretty much how I see it will be these will just be random moments in Q and Bond's lives. :/ I dunno, maybe actual plot will follow.


End file.
